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Posts Tagged ‘creativity’

“I am a weaver; a weaver of words.

Writers are weavers of words.

I am a writer. 

Oh, what tales we Weaver’s weave when our well scripted words are spun together into a magical yarn.

I am a writer; a weaver of magical yarns. 

I am a Weaver; a weaver of magical yarn.

I am a Weaver.”

 

 

I have always been a fan of folklore, myths and parables.  Recently, I came across the story of a Wise old Weaver woman hidden in a cave. Every culture has mystical tales that tell of Weaver’s hidden in places unknown or away from civilization.  Their only company a big black dog. They weave beautiful capes, robes or blankets with ethereal cords from the cosmos which are never completed because chaos (the dog) intervenes to unravel their work, at which point the Weaver’s begin again.  The myth is that if the Weaver ever completes their work, the world will end.  These Weaver’s have been creating this article of beauty since the beginning of time.

During the winter months, I began to weave.  It all started because of boredom.  I am an active person.  I don’t deal well with boredom.  Boredom led me toward the need to purge.  It’s astounding the amount of items that one accumulates and then holds on to for no real reason.  The time had come for me to remove needless items from my home – make more space – let’s say; in those dark, shadowy closeted spaces one like me hesitates to venture into.

I read a piece of prose by Andrew The Lonely Author at www.thelonelyauthorblog.com ; it started with, “love hung in her closet,” what an enchanting thought!

I am a little terrified of what might be hanging in my closets – cobwebs and skeletons.  But, there is proper timing for everything and the time for purging was now. (more…)

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The animals are confused.  They have noticed we human beings are suffering.  They have gathered about me to convey their concern.

“What can be done?” I ask.  “I have been through the dark tunnel of despair. I am loathe to go there again.  The air inside the void is stagnant yet fraught with turbulence and electricity.  It smells sour.  The land is picked clean.  It has become barren, a desert. The people are starving.  They are dirty because there is no water left for them to wash and they have abandoned the search.  They are so entrenched in their own inner pain, they cannot see beyond the horizon.  I do not want to enter there again!  If I survive the dream walk, I will emerge weak and vulnerable myself.”

I hear Hummingbird laugh.  He is laughing at me!  I am angered by this and my belly begins to boil.  Annoyed, I reply to Hummingbirds laughter.

“I was ordered not to re-enter the dark realm.”  But even as I utter the words, I realize my ego was the voice which did the ordering.  I take a deep breath and calmly exhale.  Smiling now, I thank Hummingbird.  He is very wise.  Humbly, I admit I have been allowing my ego to rule my destiny.  My instinct now is to return to the awareness of my heart.  My heart is the safest place to be. (more…)

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The word for today is “thing”.

I have developed a fondness for the word “thing”- albeit, it is somewhat of a love/hate relationship.

My use of the word “thing,” usually coincides with episodes in my life where I know that if I am using the word “thing,” I am experiencing some type of mental block.  At these times, it is as if the universal vacuum has descended from above to clean out my cranium.  Just like any other vacuum, the universal one can accidentally suck up useful things as well as cobwebs.

The universal vacuum likes information.  And, just for your information, I am all for loosing such things that constitute life’s most embarrassing moments from my memory bank.

But does it really need to suck out my brain’s capacity to access its inner dictionary?

At such seemingly unintellectual times; those I can only define as brain dead moments, it makes me wonder – where’s the thing?  Meaning, my brain! (more…)

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I’ve seen the Thunder Birds again.  They’re dark ominous creatures, larger than their brothers the eagle.  They’re accompanied by lightning bolts and thunder.  At one time I feared their appearance.  Now, I realize Thunder Birds warn me not to give my fear power. (more…)

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Amarelle

Amarelle’s eyes filled with knowing and fear upon hearing disembodied words that intoned those of Nell.  She shrunk from the sound of her kind mentor’s out-of-body voice as it spoke to her and her alone – words unheard by others who were not gifted at hearing the spirits beyond.  To Amarelle, Nell’s soft sounding voice seemed like a merciless sting.  One could only feel a stab like that if they had conscience then acted against it.   Guilt’s vice like grip clenched at Amarelle’s stomach causing her to lurch forward.  It made her feel sick.  (more…)

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The astrologers say that, “It is a big energy day.”  I am somewhat bemused by their prediction.

Big energy or “quickenings,” as I call them can cause problems in a conflicted world like ours. Since the day is only beginning however, only time will tell the tale of this quickening. (more…)

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Yours is not to question why,
Just be.

 

 

The land I live upon has a magical essence.  It’s magical because of the creatures who share it with me.  This spring, some creatures flew in from the south and nested along the dam which runs west and south of our property.  So quite naturally, I am facing southwest while I reminisce about the Canadian Geese.

The term used for a flock of geese or a number of geese together is gaggle;  and gaggle they did.  A large social celebration commenced immediately upon their arrival. (more…)

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They were like vultures circling prey.  Their beady eyes revealed a fear of death.  But, the same eyes reveled in Nell’s.  They waited expectantly to tear flesh from bone strip by strip.  Once in a while, a brave one bounced forward.  Its awkward peck was designed only to intimidate.  Does the prey still have courage?  Does she still fight?  Then its own cowardice would over-take it and the vulgar creature would hop backward into the crowd to seek safety.

Nell pitied them, they were so ugly.  She noticed their bare heads grow red in the twilight.  They hunched forward.  The sun receded.  They grew restless and cold, pulling their cloaks toward them like wings, tight to their bodies.  “Witch,” their raspy drawn-out voices hissed, “Burn Witch.” (more…)

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I am guilty of inappropriate laughter!

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